I understand the timeliness and social relevance of "unfriend," but it's kind of a downer of the word. Lexically, isn't the selection of "unfriend" as word of the year basically summing up 2009 as a year of variable friendships? Not so positive an idea.

Sunday, November 15, 2009

By now, it's pretty much common knowledge that I love the movie Independence Day. I love it for many reasons: Bill Pullman as the President; Jeff Goldblum's cheeky geekiness; the idea of world unity; the pre-battle Independence Day speech that makes me get all teary-eyed every. single. time.

I also, despite the sardonic disapproval of some others, love Armageddon. Despite the fact that some people somehow find it campy and silly, I always enjoy watching it. Even though I know substantial parts of it by heart. I mean, come on! Billy Bob Thornton as a NASA genius? Bruce Willis as a guy who shoots a gun on an oil rig? The biggest bunch of misfits who are the only people who can save the Earth from destruction? And (again) a speech that inevitably makes me cry?

My love for these two movies should have indicated that I'd love 2012, as well. I was still a bit skeptical, though, right up until the movie started. Once it had gotten going, I knew I was going to love it, too.

Now, I'm not a huge fan of conspiracies (middle school Amy, however, was a totally different story), and I find all of this 2012 Apocalypse hoopla to be nonsense. But let me tell you, it makes a great premise for a disaster movie.

2012 got everything right as far as disaster movies go: it gave proper explanation for the disaster at hand, gave said disaster impressive (but not over-the-top) special effects, but at the same time did not treat the disaster as the main character. It has all of the different, appealing, and ultimately intertwined relationships as ID4. It has all the last minute heroics of Armageddon. It has suspense and intrigue and questions about humanity and, ultimately, that all-important sense of we're all in this together.

Sunday, November 8, 2009

Once upon a time, there was a land in which everything was strange and wonderful. All of the people in this land always had fun -- ALWAYS.

And it shouldn't be hard to imagine why, because their days were full of adventures in the trees, building sandcastles of ancient cities on the sandy shore, and reclining near the mulberry trees to cloud-watch, draw, and write haikus. In this land, every cloud looked like something spectacular; every drawing was worthy of being in the Louvre; and every haiku was perfect, regardless of whether it contained exact 5-7-5 structure.

In this land, the nights were full of songs and happy shouts and wonderfully sticky cooked-over-the-fire concoctions. Even the worst of storms was an excuse for singing.

And in this land, birthdays were an occasion for a jolly good catch-up with an old, furry friend or two.

Who could not be always having fun?

This land existed. Exists. It is where we carry it. The people of this land cannot miss it, because it is always with them.

Tuesday, November 3, 2009

I guess that might sound rather anticlimactic when one considers that I roasted my family's Thanksgiving turkey last year, but that feat was achieved well within the supervision of my extremely cooking-savvy mother. This chicken was roasted all on my own.

Right now I'm feeling incredibly satisfied, having enjoyed the juicy wonderment of a Nigella-style chicken (it's so simple, really!) with a healthy helping of creamy homemade mashed potatoes. The broccoli that was meant to give color and more vitamins to the meal ended up being a bit too old to eat, but that really didn't affect the overall caliber of the meal. Nothing could, when the chicken was this good.

There's just something satisfying in knowing that I have the chicken-roasting skill in my kitchen arsenal. And now I'm working on the chicken-soup-from-roast-chicken skill, too.

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Who carried what watermelon??

I am a children's librarian living, working, and reading in Illinois. It makes me happy to help folks--of any age!--find books they'd like to read. I am passionate about early literacy initiatives, science and math programming, and engaging kids of all ages with stories whenever I can.
This blog is solely mine, and it does not reflect anyone's opinions but my own.